


It doesn't end

by ShezzasCompanion



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3185186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShezzasCompanion/pseuds/ShezzasCompanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after escaping Serbia, Sherlock's time there still haunts him in his dreams</p>
            </blockquote>





	It doesn't end

_"J-J-John" The name slipped past his lips as the air was forced from his lungs by the blow to his side. It was his version of help, the one that always brought him results and safety, but Sherlock knew no matter how much he yelled out his friends name, John would not come. How could he? He was miles away, thinking he was dead. Honestly as the pipe continued to make contact with his exposed skin, Sherlock wished he was, then the pain would stop. Then men who were torturing would stop laugh as he gasped out John’s name as tears slid down his face. Then they would stop taunting him or at least he wouldn’t be around to hear them._

_He yanked on the chains trying to escape, but there wasn’t enough give in the restraints for him to get away, instead there was just the rattling of the metal as the cuffs dug into his wrists as the pipe again connected with his side. They were laughing again, saying things in Serbian, lower than he could hear properly. Sherlock lifted his head slightly as his tormentor moved back just into the shadows, his movement obvious, though what he was exchanging the pipe for was not. He stayed in the shadows, moving beyond the range the detective could turn his head, his heart was racing as the loud crack echoed through the air and pain exploded across his back. “J-JOHN”_

Sherlock bolted up in bed, his body covered in cold sweat as his back and side ached from still healing wounds his thrashing has irritated. The detective panted as he ran his hands over his face before bringing his knees to his chest to rest his head upon as he tried to calm himself. Tears pricked his eyes, sobs burning in his throat, his chest aching with the desire to call out for someone, anyone, _John._ John, the one he had did all of this for, the force that had kept him sane, the one they had used against him, the one who would never know what exactly happened. Sherlock slumped over, a low, pitiful sound escaping his lips as the burning in his throat gave way and the bubble in his chest burst as tears slowly slid down his pale face on to the pillow below. His body was wrecked with silent sobs as he closed his eyes as tightly as he could while his arms wrapped themselves around his torso. His efforts to calm himself were failing and his chest began to hurt once more. He reached out for his phone, the screen blurry from the tears in his eyes as he typed as best he could with shaking hands.

John I need you – SH

However, he couldn’t bring himself to send it, he couldn’t bring himself to wake up John and the woman he was to marry, he couldn’t insist that John pause his new life to come back to his old one. Instead the message was saved as a draft and he laid there in the dark, hands clutching his shirt sides until his tears subsided and the shaking stopped.


End file.
